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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29534559">Killing Worm Cultists is Something That Can Actually be so Personal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottoncandy_dreams/pseuds/cottoncandy_dreams'>cottoncandy_dreams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Necromancy, No Beta, Nothing explicit, Worm Cult, exploring old ruins and almost dying multiple times does wonders for falling in love, hi sorry i have not been inspired lately but this quest was perfect for my OC so</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:29:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29534559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottoncandy_dreams/pseuds/cottoncandy_dreams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ereshkigal Lilin is a bosmer with an unconventional upbringing. Raised in Coldharbour in a tribe of bosmer pledged to Molag Bal, the evil daedra was something that had always been a part of his life. When he was given the opportunity to join the Worm Cult, it seemed natural to him. But then he was betrayed by Mannimarco, his soul was stolen, and he was banished to a plane he'd never been: Nirn. While exploring this alien world, Resh has to make sense of himself and his new place. </p><p>One day while exploring Malabal Tor, he meets a frantic bosmer in need of help. Will he be able to escape the ruins and his past? Or will something (or someone) keep him anchored?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arithiel/Male Vestige</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Killing Worm Cultists is Something That Can Actually be so Personal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Spoilers for Elder Scrolls Online quest "Arithiel" in Malabal Tor.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>When I set out to explore the ancestral home of my people, I didn't expect to come across the very cult I was trying so hard to steer clear of. I certainly didn't expect to find someone who would understand my very soul, but things rarely go the way we plan them to, don't they?</p><p>That's what I tell myself at least. Maybe it will lessen the guilt of what I had to do. Eventually.</p><p>The forest floor was wet, but not the kind of wet that soaks through boots. It was cool. Airy. I guess "fertile" is a good word for it. So unlike Coldharbour, with it's crunchy-like-glass blackstone and bioluminescent waters.</p><p>I walked slowly along the pathway, marvelling at the trees. How they grew! How they stretched seemingly forever towards the pale blue sky of Nirn! What a strange place this was. When I breathed deeply, the fresh air stung my lungs, but at the same time, my heart pumped determinedly, as if this was where I belonged.</p><p>I spotted a bridge up ahead. A bosmer was standing there, his head snapping around like a hungry clannfear.</p><p>"Y'ffre save us!" he shouted.</p><p>"Hail!" I shouted to him. "What land is this?"</p><p>"She's caught! I'm sure of it!" He took a panicked breath and kept shouting. Delirious, he seemed. "Held in the Worm Cult's festering pits. Got to rescue her!"</p><p>I pressed my hands on his shoulders. "Calm down, man! Who are you and what are you talking about?"</p><p>He took a breathe and the words came tumbling from his mouth again. Other than his name--Aering--I couldn't understand exactly what he was saying; this forest dialect was so different from my native dialect of Bosmeri.</p><p>"Slow down. I can't understand you. What happened?"</p><p>He blinked rapidly, tears filling his lower eyelids. "It's Arithiel. She helped us escape, but no one's seen her since. And Abamath is overrun with all manner of undead and their vile masters!"</p><p>"Abamath--?"</p><p>"The ruins just over the bridge." He pointed, and I noticed for the first time stones of white jutting painfully from the lush jungle greens.</p><p>I looked back at him. The tears were running freely down his dirt-streaked cheeks now. "You said the Worm Cult has your friend?"</p><p>"Yes, and after all Arithiel did for us, we should repay her kindness. I need to stay here and wait for the others. Arithiel told us to meet here." The man hesitated as though wanting to ask for my help. I could feel the words on the tip of his tongue.</p><p>"I can help you."</p><p>He heaved a shuddering breath and his shoulders slumped. "Thank you, kind traveller. But please, you have to hurry. I don't know what the Worms are going to do her!"</p><p>The Worms. Yes, I was familiar with their methods of torture. I set my sights on the ruins and ran towards them. If I knew the Worms at all, and I did, then she would likely be held in a cage. They would do terrible things to her, just as they had done to me. There wouldn't be much time before the cultists took her as a sacrifice to Molag Bal. Molag Bal. I shuddered. No, I couldn't let an innocent woman go through that.</p><p>I dropped to a crouch behind a fallen pillar and observed. Several cultists in their signature dark robes milled about the ruins. Some prepared food, others toyed with skeletons. A fire flickered in a stone ring. Behind a canvas tent was a cage, and in the cage was a frightened looking bosmer woman. That must be her.</p><p>Time to fight.</p><p>"Worms meet your death!" I screamed in my native tongue as I leapt from my hiding spot. I swung my scythe and defended blows from a summoned skeleton. Two cultists turned to me. I quickly raised a skeleton of my own.</p><p>"You filth, we'll send your soul to Molag Bal!" a cultist snarled. He swung at me with his sword. I rolled out of the way and sprinted at the wall of the ruin, leaping from its stoney surface, and landed on the shoulders of the cultist. Down went my scythe. Off went his head. Sinews and blood, he collapsed to the ground, and with him, his undead minions.</p><p>I raised his corpse with my necromancy and sicced him on his friend. The remaining cultist turned, horrified, to see a headless man chasing him with a big sword. I joined the chase, screaming, and beheaded this cultist with one fell swoop of my scythe. The fight over, I wiped the blood off my scythe and holstered it, then I turned towards the cage.</p><p>Panting, I unlocked it and opened the door. "Arithiel?"</p><p>I looked up at her and felt my knees weaken. The woman was taller than me. Her chesnut hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes were solid ebony. Caked in dirt, cloaked in animal fiber rags, and a crown of twigs in her hair, I was certain I had never seen a mer as beautiful as she. And I had just practiced necromancy in front of her. People from this world didn't take too kindly to that, as I had learned.</p><p>"Who are you?" the woman asked, hesitant.</p><p>"Uh, I'm, uh, Ereshkigal," I stammered. "Aering sent me."</p><p>"Thank Y'ffre! I'm so glad those bastards didn't listen to me when I told them to run." If she had any questions about my necromancy, she didn't show it. She stepped out of the cage and winced, grasping her side.</p><p>"You're hurt," I observed, reaching to steady her. "Can I help?"</p><p>"Oh, I'll be okay." She waved me off. "I've been studying Restoration. But if you really want to help, get me into the ruins beneath Abamath. They're down there: the Worm Cult. And we have to stop them." Her obsidian black eyes hardened with intention.</p><p>If they were planning something here, this beautiful forest would not be so beautiful for much longer. My experience with them made me certain of this. But if this beautiful bosmer woman knew of that history, if she knew what secrets I was harboring, she wouldn't accept my help. I bit my lip.</p><p>"What do you need me to do?"</p><p>While she healed herself, Arithiel explained her plan to me. There were glowing stones around the campsite being guarded by the Worms. We were going to split up and retrieve them. According to an old tome Arithiel read, these stones were used by the ancient Ayleids to seal the entrances to their hideouts. Once we gained access to the ruins, we could put a stop to the Worm Cult.</p><p>"They've got the welkynd stones at their tents; their glow should help you find them. Once you've recovered the stones, head to the ruins' entrance. I'll meet you there, and we'll go in." Arithiel stood up, her healing spell complete. "Any questions?"</p><p>"Do you know what they're doing?"</p><p>"Sowing discord, as usual," she huffed. "But this sect is different. They spoke about an arcane ritual and Mauloch. Their leader's a powerful necromancer, Cassia Varo."</p><p>For a brief moment, I felt suspicious. How did she know this? But I shook my head. Clearly, she was very smart and listened closely while she was being held captive.</p><p>"Okay. Are you ready?"</p><p>She patted her previously injured side and leg. "Right as rain. Let's go."</p><p>We separated to retrieve the stones.</p><p>A tent sat nestled between a wall of the ruin and the creek that flowed nearby. Three cultists were stationed there, their backs turned to me. Readying myself, I summoned a skeleton and brought out my staff. I sucked the energy from one of the cultists. He fell and grunted, dead, weak.</p><p>The other two swirled around, summoning skeletons and hurling blue flames at me. I rolled out of the way and aimed my staff at the one on the left. Her essence was thick and difficult to drain. Like sap, it flowed from her soul. She got weaker, slower. My summoned skeleton finished her off.</p><p>The other cultist rammed into me, threw me down. His staff brushed my temple as I rolled out of its way. I hopped up, aimed my staff at the bastard. He jabbed me. I growled and took out my scythe.</p><p>"Is that all you got?!" I snarled.</p><p>I swiped at him. He fell to the ground and crawled away, but he was too slow. I swung my scythe down. The ebony blade pierced his back, pinning him to the ground. His life left him with a wheeze.</p><p>In a crate inside the tent, the stone glowed blue, just as Arithiel said it would. I scooped it up and put it in my pack.</p><p>Three more I acquired in a similar manner. When I was done and thoroughly out of breath, I snaked my way around necromancers and their summoned lesser daedra to the central spire of the ruins. The entrance.</p><p>It towered over the green and whitestone landscape. Even though it was clearly in a state of ruin, it was marvelous. How must it have looked when it was new? Grand, to be sure.</p><p>Arithiel leaned up against one of the pillars, playing with a shiny silver coin. I cleared my throat.</p><p>"I was wondering when you'd show up." She sounded surprised. "Was getting worried you'd changed your mind and left."</p><p>I grinned. "And let you have all the fun? No way. I live to fight the Worms."</p><p>She gave me a look I couldn't decipher but didn't say anything. "Put one of your stones in the sconce at the same time as me. That should unlock the ruins."</p><p>Glowing blue stones. Silver carved sconces. The whoosh of the perhaps-thousand-year-old ruins unlocking. I shuddered.</p><p>"It worked," I breathed.</p><p>"The last two welkynd stones unlock the door to the ritual chamber inside. Don't lose them," Arithiel instructed. I acknowledged her, and we descended the spiral stone staircase and pushed open the heavy doors. They were carved with a glowing blue tree. These Ayleids must have loved the color blue.</p><p>The inside of the temple was cold, which surprised me. It was only in the absence of the humidity of Malabal Tor that I realized how thick and hot the air had been. The stone floors and walls did not absorb sound, so the conversations of the cultists carried. So did our footsteps.</p><p>We crouched down and hid behind a wall.</p><p>"...summon Mauloch," a cultist was saying.</p><p>"I know," another agreed giddily. "It's so exciting."</p><p>"The master has big plans to work with Mauloch to turn Malabal Tor. Don't fuck it up."</p><p>Arithiel and I glanced at each other. A team-up between Mauloch and Molag Bal was definitely bad news.</p><p>She directed me to go around the other way. I would distract them, and she would flank them. Following her lead, I stood and sprinted into the big, doming cathedral room.</p><p>"Hey assholes! Over here!"</p><p>I waved my hands overhead, summoning spirits which chased each other overhead. The spirits released energy, sapping the life forces of my enemies and healing me with the excess. I got the three cultists to engage with me and my spirits. My scythe swung through the air. Met bone. Rended flesh. The necromancers summoned their own corpses and surrounded me.</p><p>Where was Arithiel?</p><p>Glancing around my enemies, I searched for her. A sharp pain flung me back into the wall.</p><p>"Fuck!" I drew my hand away from the wound. I was bleeding. Badly.</p><p>A shrill scream cut through my pain. Arithiel!</p><p>The necromancer's controlled corpses swarmed me. The ceiling of the ruins was all I could see. It was made of many stones, and flickering blue lights reflected off of them. It was growing darker now. My vision pulsed.</p><p>A skeletal hand shot through the corpses. Grabbed one. Stabbed it. Another hand pulled me up. I was handed my scythe. Reaching with my magicka, I grabbed hold of the lingering life force of the corpse and drank deep. I swung hard with my scythe, slicing through a never ending hailstorm of corpse and cultists. I felt a back against mine and whirled around, scythe poised for the kill.</p><p>Arithiel.</p><p>She nodded at me, panting hard, blood running from a gash on her cheek. I nodded at her, and we turned, back to back again. Together, we cut down every last cultist and corpse in that ruin.</p><p>When, finally, we were surrounded only by unbreathing creatures, we collapsed, adrenaline-spent and breathless. I looked at her. She looked at me. I felt as though we had some connection now. Something I had never felt, not even in my youth in Coldharbour.</p><p>"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked after we caught our breath.</p><p>I shook my head. Should I tell her where I was really from? I took a drink from my water skin and offered it to her. She took a sip.</p><p>"Some bosmer don't hate necromancy as much other people, but even then, I've never seen one who actually practiced it." She seemed to want to ask me something, but she held back. Hand outstretched, she gave my waterskin back and pushed to her feet.</p><p>Time to move on.</p><p>The large room corralled into a hallway with a door. There was nowhere else to go.</p><p>"This must be it. There's the sconces for the welkynd stones," Arithiel said. I handed her one, and at the same time, we placed the stones.</p><p>The carved tree turned blue as the stones unlocked it, and I pushed it to open it--and flew back!</p><p>"Fuck!" I cursed as I smacked into the ground.</p><p>"Oh! Are you okay?!" Arithiel rushed to my side.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine," I insisted, waving her off.</p><p>"Good." She sat back as I pulled myself up off the ground. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting a barrier across this entrance. The Cult must have set this up as a last line of defense in case they were attacked."</p><p>"It's okay, really."</p><p>"Good, good." She put her hand to chin and rumpled her brow, concentrating. As I watched her, I felt my pain melting away as though it didn't matter anymore.</p><p>"There must be a power source nearby, another welkynd stone or something," she mumbled. "Look! There! On the pedestal!"</p><p>I followed her pointing hand to a black pedestal I hadn't noticed earlier. Atop it was a gem surrounded by black smoke. The thick smoke poured off the gem, flowing like water. It got stronger as I approached it. It drew me in. Tendrils of smoke brushed up against me, caressing me.</p><p>"Yes…" a voice in my head drawled. "The door is locked. But I can unlock it for you, with the proper energy."</p><p>I pressed my hands against my ears. "Who are you?!"</p><p>"Someone with whom you have mutual interests: getting into that ritual chamber."</p><p>"What would a talking stone want with a bunch of Worm Cultists?"</p><p>"I'm not a talking stone, mortal. I'm talking through the stone." The voice sounded exasperated. "I am the Daedric Prince known as Boethiah."</p><p>Understanding flooded me. A Daedra. Not a lesser Daedra, but a real one. A Daedric Prince.</p><p>"Ordinarily, I wouldn't care what you mortals did on your own plane, but Mauloch has spited me recently, and foiling his plans would please me greatly. So, I'm willing to help you," Boethiah explained. "It's easy. All I need to open the door is energy. A soul. There's a perfectly good one right next to you: Arithiel. Kill her, give her soul to me, and it will power this gem to open the door."</p><p>"What?! I'm not going to just kill her."</p><p>Boethiah chuckled. "Your little friend Arithiel, she's not telling you the truth, you know. She's a member of the Worms, that hypocrite. She betrayed her own people to join them, not giving any second thought to the destruction they brought on unsuspecting little villages everywhere. It was only when her beloved family was threatened that she stepped back from her cult."</p><p>Poison. Fire. A thousand bites from a fiendroth. My blood drained from my body, and I understood how vampires must feel inhabiting bloodless bodies.</p><p>"I don't want to kill her," I croaked.</p><p>"Kill her, or you won't be able to enter the ritual chamber." Boethiah left my head, and the world came rushing back to me.</p><p>Colors filled my head, colors I didn't even realize I wasn't seeing. And then it was dark again as my eyes adjusted. Arithiel was in the Worm Cult? I couldn't believe what I had heard. But what reason would Boethiah have to lie to me? Mephala was the Daedric Prince of Lies, not Boethiah. Still, who can ever know what drives Daedric Princes?</p><p>But if Arithiel was really in the Worm Cult, that would mean--</p><p>"Were you… were you talking to the stone??" Arithiel asked incredulously.</p><p>I nodded slowly. "Boethiah…"</p><p>"Boethiah?" she repeated.</p><p>"She'll open the door--"</p><p>"That's great!"</p><p>"--in exchange for your soul."</p><p>Arithiel recoiled. "My soul?"</p><p>I nodded.</p><p>"W-why?"</p><p>"Boethiah said… you were part of the Worm Cult?"</p><p>Arithiel paled. "Oh."</p><p>My head was filled with static. I couldn't think anything. Either way this went, it would change things.</p><p>"Look, i-it's not what you think, okay?" Her gaze dropped to the floor. "It's true. I once served the Worm Cult, and everyone I loved died by my hands. With each death, pieces of myself cracked and shattered, until my hatred turned inside out, and I finally saw the Cult for what they truly are."</p><p>I was silent. Could this be? I wasn't the only one?</p><p>"If you want to sacrifice my soul, I understand. It's what I deserve, after everything I've--"</p><p>"No!" I cut her off. "No. Arithiel, I… I understand."</p><p>Her head snapped to meet my gaze.</p><p>"I was a part of the Worm Cult, too," I confessed.</p><p>It was her turn to be stunned into silence.</p><p>"I grew up in Coldharbour, in the Moonless Walk." I felt my story heavy on my chest. I continued, carefully choosing my words, until eventually they poured out of me. "I was born to a clan called the Shadow Walkers. We were in servitude to Molag Bal, and I became inducted into the Worm Cult. We were taught many things about Nirn, about Valenwood. When I was brought here, I committed many sins. I'm sure you understand some of that. Like you, each death tore apart the tapestry of lies the Cult had woven for me, until all I was left with was a pile of rags. I saw the Worms for what they truly were, but it was too late."</p><p>Arithiel reached for my face, and I realized I was crying.</p><p>"I'm not going to sacrifice you, Arithiel."</p><p>Her face softened, and she crashed into me. We held each other, shaking, our guilt and anger being washed away with our grief and relief at finding one another.</p><p>When she finally pulled away from me, wiping her eyes, something inside me had changed, though I didn't know it yet.</p><p>"But wait," Arithiel said, "how will we stop the Worm Cult unless you do what Boethiah wants?"</p><p>I set my jaw. "There has to be another way."</p><p>"No. No, there isn't. If you have to choose between all of Malabal Tor and one traitor's life, you have to choose Malabal Tor."</p><p>I shook my head and opened my mouth to protest, but Arithiel pressed her finger to my lips.</p><p>"I can't let anyone else die because of me. You have to kill me."</p><p>She stood up and dropped her weapons. Her arms held out to her sides, she presented herself to me.</p><p>"No." My voice quivered. "Arithiel, I can't."</p><p>"You have to, 'Resh." She smiled at me and closed her eyes. "I'm ready for it."</p><p>Hands shaking, I raised my scythe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. It was a shadow, and it was getting bigger. Getting closer. Coming down the steps into the cathedral room.</p><p>"Arithiel, maybe there is another way!" I turned her around and pointed. "Boethiah said a soul would power the stone. But maybe it doesn't have to be your soul!"</p><p>She looked at me over her shoulder and grinned, picking up her weapons.</p><p>The footsteps drew nearer, and a lone Worm Cultist emerged from the shadows, gnawing on a chicken leg.</p><p>"Ah, fuck," she said as she spotted us. She dropped her chicken leg and drew her sword, but she was too slow. My scythe and Arithiel's dagger had already pierced her. The cultist fell to the ground, and I trapped her soul in the stone.</p><p>And… The stone continued smoldering. Minute after agonizing minute, the door stayed closed.</p><p>"No." My heart dropped. A sheen of sweat overtook my palms, and my scythe clattered to the stones below. "No."</p><p>"It's okay," Arithiel whispered. She placed her hands on my shoulders. "We tried."</p><p>I took a steadying breath. Arithiel was right. As much as I felt she and I were kindred spirits, I couldn't allow my sentimentality to kill an untold number of innocent people. As much as she had charmed me in this short afternoon, she was as guilty as I was, and I wouldn't want my death to stand in the way of even one innocent life. I had to do this. I had to kill the one person who could possibly want to be my friend. The only person who could ever possibly love me, knowing who I was and what I'd done.</p><p>She knelt at my feet, head bowed, and raised my scythe to me. Her chesnut hair covered her shoulders, but it couldn't conceal the way they heaved as she silently wept. I raised my scythe.</p><p>And the door wooshed open.</p><p>I froze. It was open?</p><p>"Arithiel, look," I breathed. She raised her head, wiping furiously at her tears.</p><p>Two quick breaths and she stood, drew her dagger. She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the winding, cavernous tunnel.</p><p>The tunnel was long and so dark. It was the kind of dark where you aren't sure if your eyes are open, so you close them to stave off the discomfort.</p><p>I was acutely aware of Arithiel's soft, warm hand in mine. Alive. I had almost killed her. At the behest of a Daedra, no less. I bit my tongue until I tasted metal.</p><p>Arithiel stopped, and I bumped into her.</p><p>"Ahead," she hissed.</p><p>Blue light spilled into the darkness, illuminating every speck of moss, every glittering stone.</p><p>A giant creature of bones lumbered up and down a crossway in the tunnel ahead. It glowed faintly of blue. Necromancy. Something was controlling this thing, but I didn't see any sorcerers around. They were probably hiding.</p><p>Arithiel drew her bow and knocked an arrow. The arrow flew silently and imbedded itself in the creature's skull. It roared and blueish green light exploded from within it. I drew my staff and sapped its life. It was thick, but not as thick as human or mer life. I could drain it faster. Arithiel drew her daggers and rushed the creature. Finally, it fell and screamed as whatever deformed approximation of a soul it had left Nirn.</p><p>We pushed on.</p><p>The tunnel opened to a chamber. It was mossy, coated in thick, soft dirt. It smelled of peat and water. But there was something else, too. Sulfur, maybe?</p><p>"We must be getting close to the ritual site," I said.</p><p>Arithiel nodded.</p><p>Where once the tunnel was a velvet blanket of black, now it was so bright I was forced to drop Arithiel's hand to block out the light.</p><p>Something in the back of the cavern glowed furiously, flickering like a star had been captured from the sky and imprisoned in this cave. Two cultists were aiming intense beams of orange and white magic at the altar. They chanted in the native language of the daedra. It was harsh, languid, sharp.</p><p>"Summon…. from slumber…. the daedra… the One," they chanted.</p><p>Another cultist stood between them--no, floated between them. The vessel. If we didn't hurry, we wouldn't be fighting three cultists; we would be fighting two cultists and the personification of Mauloch!</p><p>Arithiel and I looked looked at each other and nodded in unison.</p><p>Bursting from our hiding place, I summoned two skeletons, one-two-bam, and a mending spirit. My magicka drained significantly. I pulled my staff from my back. Aimed it. Drained the life from the middle cultist. She fell from her place hovering unsettlingly above the ground. She whirled around to face me.</p><p>"WHO DARES DISRUPT THE WORK OF MOLAG BAL?!" she roared. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at rapt attention. Everything in me told me to run.</p><p>The cultist laughed. "You will not leave this place alive!"</p><p>I summoned another fighting skeleton and aimed my staff at her again, draining her life force. It was useless. She charged me, huge mace held aloft. Her teeth flashed as she swung. I jumped aside and swung the first thing I had in my defense. My staff. A crack rang out as the mace collided with my staff</p><p>Over my shoulder, I heard Arithiel scream. My heart pounded in my ears.</p><p>The hulking cultist swung her giant mace at me again. The ground crushed me as I fell to avoid the club. Growling, I stood. Skeletons raced from every direction. I couldn't tell which were mine and which were hers.</p><p>The orange lights dropped abruptly, and everything was dark. The two cultists. Were they dead? Was Arithiel dead?</p><p>CRACK!</p><p>Ringing in my ears. My head pounding. I dragged myself away, clawing frantically at the dirt. The thick aroma of blood made me feel sick. I rolled away and felt the collision of the mace with the ground where I had just been. I rolled again. Jumped to my feet, grabbed my scythe, and swung blindly in the darkness.</p><p>A flash of white light. Lightning magic? Yes, from my summoned skeleton. I saw the monster in front of me, the cultist, blood pouring from her mouth. Visibility was gone in an instant. I swung again where I remembered seeing her. This time, my scythe connected. I felt the familiar sensation of slicing through flesh. The cultist screamed as the blade ripped through her. Something fell to the ground with a wet sound.</p><p>Everything stopped.</p><p>"Arithiel?" I wheezed. My head still pounded. The ringing in my ears made the silence seem deafening.</p><p>I heard a rattling sound.</p><p>"Arithiel?" I asked again. Please let it be Arithiel. Please let it be her and not another damned cultist.</p><p>"Here," she rasped. I dragged myself through the dirt and over corpses to her. Reaching blindly, our hands grasped one another, and we pulled each other close, both of us shaking. She laid her head on my shoulder, and I held on for dear life.</p><p>"Are you hurt?" I asked her.</p><p>"Y-yes," she coughed. "Are you?"</p><p>I closed my eyes and listened to my body. The pain barrelled into me, threatening to steal the breath from my lungs. "It's not that bad."</p><p>"Liar."</p><p>"You're one to talk," I teased.</p><p>A laugh, followed immediately by a groan. "Oh, don't make me laugh. I can't h-handle it."</p><p>"Sorry."</p><p>I groped in the dark for my staff, dragged it over. "It's a healing staff," I said. "Let me."</p><p>I made the motions of healing and forced the soothing power of life through my staff. It glowed a soft yellow, the magic glittering from the end, and then it sputtered.</p><p>"No." My heart lurched. "No, no, no, no."</p><p>"What's wrong?" Arithiel asked, her speech slurred.</p><p>"No, no!" I moaned. How could this be happening? My staff had never failed me before, not even in the harsh environment of Coldharbour. The fight replayed in my mind. The cultist, heaving her mace at me. Me, raising my staff in defense. The crack, clear as the riverbottom. I felt it in my hands.</p><p>"My staff…" I muttered. "It's broken."</p><p>Arithiel patted her hand on my chest. "S'okay."</p><p>"No!" I cried. "It's not! It doesn't get to end like this!"</p><p>"We dun' get to," she took a rattled breath, "choose our destinies."</p><p>Something dull dug into my back. My pack! I grabbed it and fished out a healing potion. "Here. Drink this."</p><p>I uncorked the purple bottle and tipped her head back, her mouth open. The liquid flowed into her mouth, and she grimaced, but swallowed. Squeezing her eyes shut, she coughed. It began to take effect; the color returned to her face.</p><p>"There. Better?"</p><p>She nodded, still grimacing. "Ah, ooh. Thanks."</p><p>I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. "You're welcome."</p><p>"Whew. That was really close. Honestly, I'm not ready to die, so I'm really glad you had that." She laughed awkwardly and stood up, wobbling slightly. "Let's get out of here."</p><p>I rolled over and slowly pushed to my feet. Or tried to. I got on one knee and fell over, stifling a cry.</p><p>"Woah!" Arithiel caught me and eased me back down. "You're really not okay. Do you have another healing potion?"</p><p>I shook my head, coughed into my hand. Horror spread through my body. I opened my hand. Blood.</p><p>"Oh no."</p><p>***</p><p>A fire crackled gently somewhere to the left of me. Its gentle light flickered, making shadows dance above me like spirits or maybe clouds. A voice filled the air, chanting softly in an unfamiliar but beautiful language. The voice, however, was familiar and so, so beautiful.</p><p>"Arithiel," I whispered.</p><p>"Ah, good, you're awake." She leaned over me, smiling. Her long hair fell into my face, and when she tucked it behind her ear, I felt my stomach flutter. "How do you feel?"</p><p>Pain--no, wait. No pain. "I feel, um, good." I sat up.</p><p>"Woah, easy," she warned.</p><p>I put my hand to my stomach. Everything felt fine. "What did you do?"</p><p>"I healed you. I told you, I've been studying Restoration." She smiled her crooked smile again.</p><p>"Well, you should think about joining the healers guild because I feel great." I yawned. "How long was I out?"</p><p>"Long enough." She started packing up our things. I noticed various herbs and some contraptions I had never seen before. "Come, slowly. Let's see if we can get you out of here and meet up with my friends."</p><p>She hoisted me up, and though I limped along slowly, I wasn't in any pain. She grimaced when she walked. The healing potion clearly wasn't enough. We would need to see some real healers in a city as soon as possible.</p><p>We made our way out of the ruins confidently, having already been down the path. Soon, we were under the open sky. The sun had been straight overhead when I met Aering on the bridge, but now Masser and Secundis shined brightly. Had a whole day really already passed?</p><p>I looked over at Arithiel from the corner of my eye. She was focused on the path ahead, her head held high and her dark eyes reflecting the moonlight. A small scar ran from her chin to her bottom lip. A light dusting of freckles decorated her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. Clearly, she hadn't lived a cushy life, but that was obvious in the way she expertly handled herself against the Cultists. The Cultists. A rush of emotion flooded me as I remembered what we had shared with each other in those ruins. We were both ex-Worm Cult.</p><p>"So…" My shaking voice cracked the silence like an egg. "Why did you join the Worm Cult?"</p><p>She didn't look at me as she answered. "The lure of revenge over petty slights and the demands of an arranged marriage shaped the rage within my despair. The Cult's agents nurtured my anger and drew me in."</p><p>Her answer sat heavy in the air.</p><p>"I hate what I became. What I did," she reiterated.</p><p>"Are you going to tell your friends?"</p><p>"What if they don't like me anymore?"</p><p>I shrugged. "Before you, I didn't have any friends. It's not so bad."</p><p>She stopped walking.</p><p>"But," I quickly added, "even if they decided not to be friends with you anymore, you'd still have me."</p><p>She looked at me, her sparkling eyes flitting around my face.</p><p>We continued walking in silence, the vegetation crunching beneath our feet and the bugs' chirping in the wet night air the only music playing. The pathway out of the ruins was hilly and winding, and with our injured pace, what should have been a short jog was a twenty-minute journey.</p><p>"There they are," Arithiel finally said.</p><p>Aering and two other bosmer stood near each other on the other side of the bridge, a tent and a fire among them. One of the bosmer saw us and started jumping and waving her hands.</p><p>"Arithiel! You're alive!"</p><p>Aering rushed over to us, pulled our arms over his shoulders, and walked us the rest of the way to the travellers' campsite. The other two bosmer, neither of whom I'd met, seemed happy to see Arithiel. They fawned over her as Aering set us down next to their campfire.</p><p>"Tell us everything!" the jumping bosmer begged.</p><p>"Let them get some food and rest first, Caralith," the other bosmer said.</p><p>I stole a glance at Arithiel. Her face was taut with agony. I reached over and squeezed her hand. She straightened her posture and cleared her throat.</p><p>"No, Eralin, it's okay," Arithiel said. She smiled at me then looked back at her friends. "I'm ready to tell you my story."</p>
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